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Sometimes we... I advert my eyes. This is when I do not want to face what is right in front of me. I do this frequently.
Even if a part of me wants to look... I don't fully. I will face that direction. But with my eyes closed. Or turn my head the appropriate way, with eyes adverted- fixated on something else. Narrowed. Focused. Squinted on something- anything far away. Something that's in the background. A backdrop. That's often where true beauty lies.
Sometimes we... I use anger. Bitterness is easy to utilize. To get mad at the small things. Easily annoyed. Perturbed. Even easily offended. Use my defenses to defuse... Or to fuse.

But when what is right in front of me is not ignored. When the depth of the picture is viewed.... All else fades. The anger. The years of heartache. The tears. The disappointments. The words. The "abuse." Did I mention anger? The failures that had been framed and hung on the wall. The control. The manipulation.

What about the love? The forgiveness. The attempts. The misunderstandings. What about MY manipulations? What about my attention seeking.

It makes me sick... What is hurt projected as bitterness and anger I have used to victimize myself. When I want to "take on the guilt"... I throw around "Oh this is what I did wrong, BUT..." There is always a "but." Always a reason I was mean (no other word here). An excuse. Victimize. What about "villainize"??

Time to not bring it up. Time to see what is in front of me. No longer averting my eyes. He is sick. It gets worse daily. No one sees it like I do. No one bears it like I do. No one internalizes it like I do. No one is trapped in it like I am. Not victimization there. Facts. Take him for the ball of anxiety and hurt and anger and loneliness he is and love him. Nurture him like I would any child.

Why isn't this an easy concept to grasp? Is it because the way his eyes narrow when he's angry- as if to hone in only on me. To look down upon me without looking into me? Or it is the stories she has told me about him? Is it the way I have ultimately been allotted the "caregiver" role? It is the past, present, or future?
Is it my guilt? Is it that I have watched this process for years. Is it because I laid in my bed crying 5 times a week- morning and night- wondering if he was going to cough himself to death- literally. Or is it that I envy him for not eating. Am I angry because he doesn't want food? He is skinny and I will never be? Is it all the times he has talked over me? Is it how I don't set my cup down right? ..... Is it deeper? Is it all of this?

Am I sad? angry? confused? conflicted? Yes. But right now. I am sad. I am sorry. I am guilt-stricken. I am hurting. I am trying to swallow pride. And now I am going to pray.